Arthaus: Berlin observations

 Arthaus day two:

Your homework is to pay attention. For the rest of your lives.

Jules and I lay flat on our stomach, watching the sugar cube plop to the bottom of the glass of water. It fizzled, and bubbles lined its surface. Some, unable to hold on any longer, let go and flew to the surface, trailing a misty string of magic behind it. The cube refused to give in to the buoyancy of the water, and resisted by falling to the floor, chunks of the sugary goodness breaking off and landing in the heap. Every so often, a stray bubble would pop and fizz its way to the top. When all seemed good and done, and the sugar heap was piled on the floor like depressed drug addicts, we decided to stir things up - literally - with our fingers.

GUYS, GUYS

The tornado picked up the bubbles and the sugar in a magical swirl. It was like watching string vortex within a glass. Pretty cool.

There are so many layers of analogy and stories that we tell each other. But there is also depth in direct observation.

We observed crumpled paper returning to its original form, the epic journey of a bouncing ball, the saga of a blown balloon being released, and imagined the interaction of iron and acid. If you haven't watched the theatrical piece of a ball bouncing to a roll, then rolling to a halt, and then negotiating a comfortable place on the floor, I'd say go pick up a ball and watch it now. It's easy, cheap, makes you laugh, wonder at a lot of things, and it's kind of like improv.

A question to keep in mind: When does it end?

Never! The crumpled paper keeps trying to return to it's original form. It keeps popping, adjusting, finding space. I'm beginning to understand why Richard said to carry the neutral mask with this energy. It never ends, we can never let it die. There is always something. The game never ends.

Our pieces: Dandelion and Phoenix.

Clown rises their energy all the way to the tippy toppy. They are dangled by a string, but yet in complete control.

I used to hate roller coaster rides. Or rides with g-force. Anything that takes the energy out of me and into my head drives me wild. Lately, within a span of two months, I've found myself spinning out of control many times. I suppose it's a metaphorical fact that my life is spinning out of my grasp. And it's cool that I'm getting pretty okay with living in that space of toppiness. That over space is pretty neat. A little over the top, and a little woohoo. Top of the head and a little further. Beyond the tip of the head, existing in a hover space. Now, just to... control it?!?

Movement lives in contrast

We played with sticks for the better part of 3 hours. Balancing it on our palms and fingers. Pushing and pulling a partner with it. Throwing it to a partner. I had a fiery petite bomb for a throwing partner, and I gotta say, it's thrilling to throw the stick and have it come back with as much force. We also took the stick away, because when you get comfortable, you gotta move. And the focus on everyone's face was beautiful. A constant flux of motion. Constant searching for balance. And then two people focused on each other and moved. I spun as my partner spun the other way. That contrast gave for a bigger movement than what actually was.

As the distance between thought and action become infinitesimal, we begin acting.

'Don't stop me now, 'cause I'm havin' a good time, havin' a good time...' As the strains of melody came in, we began to run. Throwing caution into the wind. Even with the space filled with 14 bodies, we weaved and turned and jumped and nicked our way through, course correcting, adjusting as we almost dropped our stick. The closer to the edge, the closer we were to honesty. The quicker we were to show emotions. Limits exist, and when we find them and toe the lines, we are free.

Getting lost:

We were the luckiest. Barely 10 steps from the beginning, we found a kindergarten in an old water tower, along with the park and playground that went with it. We spent a full happy hour exploring the idealistic flower garden, the tower, excavating sand, singing 'When I grow up' on swings, going down the slide, embodying stuff we found. I think my favorite was Lexine embodying the ping pong ball that a nice elderly couple were playing.

And henceforth our algorithm was simple. At difficult intersections, we would always choose the side with the lighter colors rather than the darker ones. And if there was no distinction, we'd ask a stranger 'left or right?'. It was very effective.

I saw a girl stop and smell a flower before my very eyes.

That's romantic. That's larger than life. That's crazy. And yet it happened. My disbelief was suspended, shot through the roof like an uncontrolled balloon that never returned back to the ground.

And then, on my way home, what do I hear but the music of Singlish coming from a Chinese takeout store. I had to meet these two fine folks.

Disbelief is overrated.

Published on

7/17/19 1:38 AM